


Hades & Persephone

by Enchantable



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Greek Gods AU, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Hellenistic Religion & Lore), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-04 22:44:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18822274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchantable/pseuds/Enchantable
Summary: “I feel you watch me,” he says abruptly. Michael can only gape at his honesty, “why?”“Does it bother you?” Michael asks.“No,” Alex says, “why?” He repeats, “why do you watch me?”“I can’t say,” he says“Visit me,” Alex says, “maybe we can find out.”





	Hades & Persephone

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: HADES & PERSEPHONE FOR MALEX, YOU DECIDE WHOSE WHO

They divide the universe by drawing straws.

Max takes the heavens, King of all. Isobel takes the sea, no less vital. He is left with the underworld. Michael knows this is fate. He takes little pleasure in his domain, but it is important none the less. Max and Isobel choose their favorites, their bright stars. Michael takes the rest. Everyone dies one day. When they do, they come to him. His power is an infinite as his siblings and far more inevitable. It will outlive even him.

The sky is vast and the sea is so many things. His is the realm of the dark and enclosed. From the screaming pits to the dancing fields, he is below the thing that holds the other things. He is the keeper of their mothers realm in many ways, the holder of the earth. He always liked their mother, he has no quarrel about where he is. He can live besides his siblings, underneath them, he is content. He doesn’t really have a choice in the matter, no more than anyone who passes through his gates.

Between him and his brother who rules the sky is the harvest god. He grows the fields and fruits, brings life to the earth. He challenges Michael’s reign and dominion and Michael wins in the end. Always. They have never gotten along. The harvest god has a son. Michael watches. Alex is the treasure in his father’s vast empire. He fascinates Michael. If nothing else with the amount of time he spends away from his father, picking his way through the fields and weaving flowers into crowns with his nimble fingers. Michael watches him from afar and the feelings of want and envy he used to feel thinking of his siblings kingdoms roar back to life.

“Michael has ruined the latest harvest,” the God says to Max who gives him a look. Michael smirks, “people will starve.”

“Perhaps you should save them,” he suggests, “until they inevitably come to me,” he adds.

Their feud takes root probably there.

But Michael has had the last word and is content as he makes to return to his kingdom. Only to be stopped by the harvest God’s son.

“I feel you watch me,” he says abruptly. Michael can only gape at his honesty, “why?”

“Does it bother you?” Michael asks.

“No,” Alex says, “why?” He repeats, “why do you watch me?”

“I can’t say,” he says

“Visit me,” Alex says, “maybe we can find out.”

He returns to the gilded room and the shadows Michael calls home have never seemed so opaque.

Michael finds him one day a few moons later, weaving flowers into a crown for a nymph. He places it on her head and she kisses his cheek, dancing off into the woods with her sisters. He is ready to make his presence known but Alex turns and looks right at him. Michael mentally begins to keep track of how many times this young, beautiful god has surprised him. He cannot say for sure but he’s fairly certain the number will grow very high. Alex does not get up, he makes no move to cower to him or to close the distance. In fact he turns right back to the flowers.

“You made me wait,” he says.

“I rule the ground and the dead,” Michael tells him, “it’s busy,” Alex ignores him. Michael adds another tally to the number, “I’m sorry?”

“That’s alright,” Alex says, getting to his feet, “I’m busy myself.”

“Weaving flowers?” Michael asks.

“Is there something wrong with that?” Alex challenges, “do you think your work is more important than someone else’s?” He steps closer, “I heard you were egalitarian. Was that a lie?”

Michael is, once again, speechless. Equating all of death with weaving flower crowns is ridiculous. But he takes pride in being egalitarian, more egalitarian than his siblings. And Alex has managed to challenge him on two fronts now in the span of a few minutes, all while weaving a very good flower crown. Michael likes to tell himself he’s not like Max, but he understands why his brother does stupid things for the ones he loves a lot better than he ever wished. Alex approaches him, flower crown still in his hands and waits for an answer to his question. Michael could destroy everything in sight but stands there watching him.

“No,” he says.

“We shall see,” Alex says and puts the crown on his head, “visit me again.”

Michael returns to the shadows.

He comes again at the next rain storm.

Alex is dancing in the fields. His tunic has been made translucent by the rain but he pays it no mind. He is busy dancing. Michael has accepted being spellbound by him, but something else stirs as he watches. He wants him, in a way he’s not sure he has ever wanted anyone. Alex turns to him, stopping his dance abruptly. He stands there wet and half hidden by the soaked white fabric. What Michael cannot see almost makes him want him more. But it’s what he can see that starts it off. Alex makes no move towards him again, but this time he holds his hands out.

“Dance with me.”

“I can’t,” Michael begins.

“Dance with me,” Alex says, “my father is busy with your sister. Dance with me,” Michael steps forward, “without the shadows. I know you can.”

It’s been a long time since he left his shadows that give him free domain. He can think of a million reasons to refuse. But Alex stands there with his hands held out still and all he can think is that he wants to go to him. In a way he’s not accustom to wanting anything. Michael slips his cloak off and steps into the rain, more exposed than he has been in centuries. Alex takes his hands though and he decides any weakness would be worth this as he laughs. He realizes Alex did not expect him to come into the rain with him. Surprise is written all over his face but it quickly morphs into delight.

They dance in the rain.

As it stops he knows he must return to his shadows, but as he has put them on over his rain wet skin, what he isn’t expecting is for Alex to kiss him. It catches him by surprise. The taste of rain and life and everything he is not the master of tempts him almost as much as the god himself. He cannot resist pressing into the kiss, running his tongue along Alex’s bottom lip and sucking as much of the forbidden taste as he can take. It’s not enough, but it will have to suffice. Alex pulls back with a dazed look and Michael smiles at the victory, not moving his hands from the young god’s face.

“Can I see you again?”

“Sooner, this time,” Alex breathes.

Sooner is the next day and it is because Alex presses his lips to the ground and calls for him.

When Alex lifts his head, Michael stares at the bruises. The Harvest god hates him, he knows that. But he has punished Alex. Harmed him. Michael comes over, bringing his shadows with him and Alex throws himself into them. There’s beautiful defiance, even around the split lip and darkened eye. And Michael vows that the harvest will not happen if he has anything to say about it.

“What did he do?”

“It’s nothing,” Alex says and Michael sees red.

“He’s done it before,” he says. Alex looks away, “he will do it again,” Michael says, “if he sees you with me,” he looks away. None can see them in this sliver of his domain, but they cannot stay in one spot forever with the sun bearing down on them, “I shouldn’t be here.”

“Take me with you,” Alex says and it’s more a request than any of the orders he’s given.

“Alex—“

“Just for a moment. Take me with you,” he repeats. He doesn’t beg. He won’t. But asking is all he ever has to do and Michael will give it. Michael tightens his grip and helps him up, “he’s coming,” he says the same moment Michael feels his presence.

He pulls them both into the shadows and away from the Harvest God’s eyes.

It’s dark and cool in his realm and Alex immediately relaxes against him. His father has taken his leg in punishment, so Michael helps him to his throne room and sits him at his table. King of the underground, he has more metal than he could ever know what to do with and fashions him a new leg, temporary but out of bronze. Carefully he eases it onto him as Alex watches.

“Thank you,” he says.

“Your father did this because of me,” Michael says, “if I can’t make him pay I can at least help you,” Alex looks down, “what does he do to you?” Michael asks.

The story comes from Alex of a cruel man, afraid of anything that challenges him. By the very nature of his existence that is Alex. Every conflict is magnified tenfold between the father and son. His brother turns a blind eye because the Harvest God has the right to do what he will with his child. But Alex is not a child. And his defiance has grown as stubbornly as any young flower pushing from Michael’s realm towards the sun. Any corner of him that has escaped Alex’s spell surrenders by the time he’s finished speaking.

“So was I just a tool for your rebellion?” He asks.

“Not just,” Alex says, “but you were instrumental.”

Michael laughs at that. He’s always loved music. Leg affixed, he helps Alex to his feet. He knows the Harvest God will be ripping the world apart. Just as he knows that if he goes back to Alex, it will only hurt him more. Alex knows it too. Michael has to do the thing that will hurt and he must look away. So he tries to commit every piece of Alex to memory, everything he is already half in love with and the things he suspects he may be fully in love with too. He’s looking at the pieces individually before he sees them as a whole and that, he will say later, is how he misses Alex taking the fruit until it’s in his hands.

“Is it true if I eat this I will belong here?” Alex asks.

“Yes,” Michael says.

Alex presses his fingers to the stem and splits the fruit. Michael opens his mouth to tell him to stop but Alex holds his gaze as he lifts a wedge of it to his mouth and bites into the seeds. His lips come away stained red and a trickle of the juice paints a line down his chin. It’s the rain and life but now it’s red and sticky sweet. Which does not stop Michael from kissing it from his lips. This time Alex tugs his curls and pulls him close, sighing into his mouth and finding the rest of him in the shadows. He wants to take him there, he realizes. But he can feel the pandemonium that has exploded above their heads. 

"We must return," he says, "your father is looking for you," Alex looks at him with fear, "I will not leave you," Michael says, closing his mouth over his and sucking on his bottom lip, "and I don't like to share."

They return to pandemonium and the sight of the Harvest God's relief makes his stomach turn. In his outrage, the God demands they all speak to his brother. Max's frustration at being pulled away from whatever he was doing is palpable, but the Harvest God will not be placated without an audience from their king. Michael waits as Max settles himself and the story of Alex's kidnapping is told. Max listens, running his fingers along his lightening as he does. But Michael has long since stopped fearing the bolts. 

"Did you consume anything in the realm of the dead?" Max asks. 

"Yes," Alex says. 

"He was tricked!" the Harvest God spits, "tricked by the one who kidnapped him. He seduced and tricked him. Undo this."

"I cannot," Max says.

"Then nothing will grow," comes the irate reply, "people will starve and your altar will go un-worshipped," Max's fingers pause. 

"And I will gain so many subjects," Michael speaks up, "thank you."

"Alex will divide his time," Max cuts in before they can say anything else, "between the realm of his father and that of Michael. He's bound by the fruit he ate."

It's not as bad as it could be but it's not what he wants to hear either. The pomegranate is already fading from Alex's lips when he kisses him again in the shadows after his brother's proclamation. Alex leans into the kiss, like he can fall back into the safety of the shadows with him. Michael is surprised when he tastes salt in the kiss and pulls back to see the tears on Alex's face. He pushes them to the side, kissing him again. 

"If he touches you, I will know," he swears, "and soon you will return to me." 

Alex presses his forehead to his and breathes in the promise. 

It is long before it his time, but every day seems long without Alex near him. He keeps to his shadows, though he does not stop watching him. Alex dances and weaves crowns and lays in the shadows, as if he's waiting but Michael will keep to his promise. Until the day comes when he must go and no amount of scowling from his father will keep him from that. Alex returns to the field and stops far from him, but the red fruit in his hand is unmistakable. Michael watches as he digs his thumbs in again and bites into the fruit and as though he is released from a taut chain, Michael is there to kiss it from his chin and his lips before a single drop hits the ground. 

"I missed you," he breathes. 

"Take me with you," Alex orders and Michel grins. 

They return together 


End file.
